Tuesday, June 12, 2012


Yesterday was a long day. I somehow managed to be awake and packed and out the door by the time I had been waking up for a week. Sleep is a wonderful thing.

I ate another muffin. Really really good blueberry muffins.

I put off calling the hospital, to tell them I wouldn't be able to make it in.

Mostly because I still wanted to believe I would go. Which of course, was completely ridiculous.

A car ride, two trains, a taxi, a looong flight without a movie, and another car ride, and we were home.

Home to our house.

Shriveled orchids and purring kitty.

Comfort and routine and internet that works.

I unpacked at night. When the house is quiet and I'm listening to music on my iPod that is once again fully charged.

I create a scary pile of laundry to add to the already scary pile.

I dig some coins out of my hairbrush.

I flip through the playbills from the shows. I finger the tickets.

I breathe in the salty smell of the sea.

I run my hands over sandy shoes.

I love to travel.

I love going to new places and exploring.

I love being a tourist. Once I can get over the "I look like a total tourist" thing.

And I love coming home.

I love feeling wrapped up by familiar smells and sounds.

I love both.

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